Lil Gotit
No Fifties (Remix)
[Intro: BABY PLUG]
(Section 8 just straight cooked this motherfucker up)
Young n***a
Young n***a
Young n***a

[Chorus: BABY PLUG]
Fuckin' a booster, she gettin' me clothes
Beatin' with Rooster, we loosen the knob on the doors
Glock 19 with one in the nose
It's on me, but nobody knows
So much shit on me, but nobody knows
Damn, my n***a done killed my bro
I don't even know which way to go
But fuck it, thuggin' on my own
Shut up, n***a, bring that shit out
Cook up, n***a, straight out the pot
I be tryna calm, off these meds, strapped up
Big bruh said, "Why you in the booth?" Fuck the trap spot
I don't give a fuck 'bout a whole whole hater
I don't give, motherfuck 12, I'm a landscaper
Young n***a loaded up, still chasin' paper
Young n***a strapped, ready to pull your man-card

[Verse 1: Lil Gotit]
I rock designer clothes
Come pull up to the block and jugged at the store
Snakes on my collar, I Gucci'd my clothes
Puttin' them diamonds in that big body Rolls
In traffic, we swap out them poles
I let his bitch come blow me like O's
A n***a get slimed, you know how that go
Play with that check, then we breakin' your nose
I'm in that Porsche Cayenne
Exotic, I popped me a Xan'
Popped me an upper, I hope I don't land
He pop it, he pop it, he pop it
But he know he can get smacked like a can
Hundred round for an advance
Mess up, can't wait to go jump out a van
Leave the block hot, yeah, they gon' need a fan
[Chorus: BABY PLUG & Lil Keed]
Fuckin' a booster, she gettin' me clothes
Beatin' with Rooster, we loosen the knob on the doors
Glock 19 with one in the nose
It's on me, but nobody knows
So much shit on me, but nobody knows
Damn, my n***a done killed my bro
I don't even know which way to go
But fuck it, thuggin' on my own
Shut up, n***a, bring that shit out
Cook up, n***a, straight out the pot
I be tryna calm, off these meds, strapped up
Big bruh said, "Why you in the booth?" Fuck the trap spot
I don't give a fuck 'bout a whole whole hater
I don't give, motherfuck 12, I'm a landscaper
Young n***a loaded up, still chasin' paper
Young n***a strapped, ready to pull your man-card (Keed, talk to 'em)

[Verse 2: Lil Keed]
Hold up, please chill, bitch (Chill)
Hold up, diamonds real, bitch
Hold up, n***a talkin' crazy
We Call of Duty kill shit (Skrrt)
Shots fired out of that foreign
Yeah, the fork scratchin' glass bowls
Fuck mud, we drivin' side-by-sides on the road (Side-by-sides)
Tear it up, ooh
Yeah, they talkin' 'bout, "Talk to 'em, Prince Slatty Slatty"
Work ethic so crazy, I ain't average
Balenciaga, I don't never wear Bally (Balenci', Balenci')
I ain't gotta finesse, just know a n***a havin'
Clean image, I ain't get extra tatted
But just know I get extra active
N***as on Instagram typin', they laughin'
Well, drop a pin, I'ma pull up straight casket
[Chorus: BABY PLUG]
Fuckin' a booster, she gettin' me clothes
Beatin' with Rooster, we loosen the knob on the doors
Glock 19 with one in the nose
It's on me, but nobody knows (Section 8 just straight cooked this motherfucker up)
So much shit on me, but nobody knows
Damn, my n***a done killed my bro
I don't even know which way to go
But fuck it, thuggin' on my own
Shut up, n***a, bring that shit out
Cook up, n***a, straight out the pot
I be tryna calm, off these meds, strapped up
Big bruh said, "Why you in the booth?" Fuck the trap spot
I don't give a fuck 'bout a whole whole hater
I don't give, motherfuck 12, I'm a landscaper
Young n***a loaded up, still chasin' paper
Young n***a strapped, ready to pull your man-card